By Dr. R. Balasubramaniam

There is a secret Olympic sport that many Indian households have mastered — it is called “Tube Wrestling.” It involves squeezing a toothpaste tube to its absolute death, flattening it, twisting it, rolling it and then — just when it should be given a decent burial — cutting it open to scoop out its final breath with a toothbrush. That last speck of Colgate is a national treasure. We may misplace property papers worth crores, but never, ever a half-used tube of paste.

We are a nation obsessed with saving rupees in the bathroom, even while losing thousands in the living room.

Take shampoo bottles. You would think they are made of gold the way we treat them. Just when the pump stops cooperating, we launch “Operation Liquid Salvage” — a generous splash of water goes in, the bottle is shaken like a damru and voila! — shampoo soup for the next five washes. Dilution is not only the solution. It is a tradition.

And soap? We do not discard that sliver until it is thinner than a credit card and nearly invisible on the bathroom tile. Sometimes it is even artfully merged with a new bar — two generations of cleanliness joined in wedlock. A perfect union of past and future.

We proudly hoard plastic bags as if the world will run out of them tomorrow. Cupboards overflow with branded paper bags from shops we have not visited in years. We fold gift wrapping paper and save it for “next time” and birthday candles are blown out quickly so they can be reused for the next cousin’s party.

Yet, while we preserve soap slivers with the same care as family heirlooms, we think nothing of buying an iPhone worth a month’s salary on EMI or ignoring the mounting credit card bill while chasing discounts on toilet cleaner.  We see no issues with paying Rs. 300 for coffee at a café but think it is normal to haggle over Rs. 5 with the street vendor over coriander.

Enter the modern generation. They stare at us in confusion as we reuse old Tupperware boxes till the lids vanish and become UFOs. They throw away shampoo bottles when it stops foaming on the first squirt and wonder why we keep socks and banians with holes (because we will wear them “inside only”). They have apps to track their spending. We have relatives who do it for us.

The irony is sublime. We hesitate to pay Rs. 50 for parking but don’t blink while spending Rs. 500 on popcorn at a mall. We walk an extra half kilometre to save Rs. 10 on vegetables and then go straight into a mega sale where we “save Rs. 2,000” by spending Rs. 8,000.

Being penny wise and pound foolish is not just a habit — it is a lifestyle. A delicate balance of squeezing, saving and then spending irrationally. A reminder that frugality is not always about wisdom. Sometimes, it is just about muscle memory.

But deep down, we all know that one last squeeze of the toothpaste is not just about saving money. It is a cultural legacy. A symbol of our resilience. And perhaps, our curious sense of financial logic.

[Dr. R. Balasubramaniam is the Founder of Swami Vivekananda Youth Movement. ‘The Lighter Side’ is a series of satirical articles meant to bring a smile by highlighting the funny side of everyday life.]